In which I take to the skies for some aerial photography with Hans Strand.

autumn in Abisko

I am on my way home from Swedish Lapland; the land of reindeer and forests, where I have been doing some photography in Abisko National Park.

Everything about it was golden. Even the sign that sits by the Abisko river gorge.

Abisko National Park

According to our hosts, Better Moments, the golden hues of autumn in Abisko last for about 1 week in mid September.

I was there.

One of the attractions for me was the opportunity to experience aerial photography with master landscape photographer Hans Strand.  Hans is well known for his photographs of Iceland, and his beautiful book 'Iceland, Above and Below' , and of course I wanted to have a go.

The heicopters take off from the helicopter station.

Abisko helicopter station

While we waited a red helicopter containing man and large dog popped in to refuel.

the dog is on the rear seat

Before we could fly the technicians carefully removed the doors and did a bit of duct tape fixing.

door removal for aerial photography

Then three by three we were strapped in safely, with an extra harness around our waists just in case we 'accidentally undid our seat belts' (which I can assure you I had no intention of doing).

ground control man

So what was it like?

Well firstly I was very hungry.

The trip was carefully designed for maximum empty stomachs. Twirling around in the air is not for the faint hearted, easily nauseated traveller. Our hosts were careful to keep us hungry, and I am glad they did.

Secondly it was windy. So windy my eyes were full of tears, and I could barely see what I was doing by the end of the 15 minute ride.

Thirdly it was magnificent, and all over far too quickly.

Exhilarating in a way that bungee jumping never would be.

jewels on the landscape

We soared over the golden forest and hovered over green and blue lakes.

Cameras set to a shutter speed of 800 and ISO 200 to allow for the vibrations of the helicopter.

Abisko River

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In the space of 15 minutes I took over 100 photographs.

Not one is in focus.

But I had an experience that I will never forget.
 

Abisko in Autumn © Caroline Fraser

And when I came back to earth I was so glad to have had the opportunity to know how it feels to be up there.

And to have a large piece of chocolate.

Photography in Iceland............expect the unexpected

last light before the snow arrives on the Snaefelnes peninsula

I am sitting at home while it snows outside.

Dog and I have been around the block.

The fridge has been cleaned. Many jars of dead chilli sauce have been chucked. The orange pepper that challenged the label on the inside of the fridge saying 'antibacteria' is now on the compost heap. Health and efficiency have been restored behind closed doors.

I have no further excuses for addressing the many photographs that I carried home from Iceland just eight days ago.

work in progress

And yet I am struggling. Having a crisis of confidence. Wondering what I am trying to achieve?

I have learnt a valuable but painful lesson in Iceland. I have realised that going to a place with preconceived ideas of what I wish to achieve was a big mistake.  I now understand that, for me, making images is a meditative process that only works if I am being spontaneous, responding to the feelings of elation that wild and beautiful places bring.

I travelled with two incredibly talented, respected and highly entertaining landscape photographers, David Ward and Daniel Bergmann. They are masters of the craft of traditional landscape and outdoor photography.

Daniel Bergmann and David Ward on the road - literally and metaphorically

 I intended to build on my collection of snow and ice images, and hoped to achieve some abstracts from the winter landscape. I had the idea to create a body of work suitable for my portfolio.

I was foiled in my desires mainly by completely misunderstanding of what the weather might be; that Iceland in winter is not a guarantee of snow. That torrential rain is possible and that snow does not lie on the ground off the mountains all through winter. I assumed that there would be a low tide on the beaches where I had hoped to create abstracts of tidal recession.  More fool me! Preparation was not done properly.

That is not to say that I didn't have a great time. Being away from work and able to relax into going with the flow and accepting what came along in terms of tides and weather was a privilege. Once again the journey around the island was full of memorable vistas of emptiness, space and colour.

colours reminiscent of the Hebrides in the sky and the sea

David Ward introduced us to a quote by Bill Brandt

“It is part of the photographer’s job to see more intensely than most people do. He must have and keep in him something of the receptiveness of a child who looks at the world for the first time or of the traveler who enters a strange country… We are most of us too busy, too worried, too intent on proving ourselves right, too obsessed with ideas to stand and stare… Very rarely are we able to free our minds of thoughts and emotions and just see for the simple pleasure of seeing. And so long as we fail to do this, so long will the essence of things be hidden from us.”

—	Bill Brandt

Going on a trip like this, with the ability to leave daily routines and worries behind allows one to indulge in the simple pleasures of seeing.

snow clouds arriving on the horizon at dawn

 I do spend a lot of time drawn to the horizon, either by light or colour. I hope to capture the mood that I felt when sitting quietly with my camera. Standing is massively over-rated. If I get stuck in a new location I sit with my flask of tea and my tripod in front of me and wait until I see something that I wish to consider photographing.

compulsory ruined house photoshoot

I did struggle a bit when we got to the ruined house scenario; I walked off into the field in the hope of getting some graphic grass images, as I found it hard to identify a subject with everyone working in a small space. They were a disaster. But it turned out to be the beginning of a new venture into corrugated iron photography, something I allowed myself to divert to later in the day when I realised that I had to embrace what was there rather than fighting against subject matter that appeared initially unappealing.

I branched out into multiple exposure photography on a shed, and later on the church at Hellnar, getting some of my favourite images from the trip.

Church at Hellnar © Caroline Fraser 2103

The highlight of the trip was a hike on the Svinafellsjokul glacier. Low cloud made for beautifully atmospheric conditions, and we stayed as long as we dared until it was almost dark.


For a sense of scale, see further below.

the trip highlight; a glacier hike complete with crampons and full photographic kit

 I learned a useful lesson about colour on this trip. By setting the camera white balance to 'daylight', the camera records colours of early morning and late evening as they really are, rather than trying to correct out the colour cast. When we look at a scene our eyes will tend to correct casts, but the camera sees them as they really are, with exciting results.

 David Ward is a master of the use of colour in outdoor scenes, using them to dramatic effect.

see here for his explanation and examples of the use of colour cast

These images from the glacier are uncorrected. On a sunny day it would be a very different, less colourful view. The dull weather brought out the incredible intensity of blues in the ice.

So now I shall rethink myself as an 'outdoor photographer' , who is no longer afraid to tackle the challenges of bits of old metal, and who now needs to return to Iceland in her own vehicle so that she can stop wherever the mood fancies, and can stop to take a picture of an Icelandic pony if the mood takes her.

using colour cast to create an abstract from corrugated metal ©Caroline Fraser 2013

And just in case you were wondering, we did get to photograph some ice.

glacial fragment, Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon © Caroline Fraser 2013

And even more wonderful, we got to see the Northern lights on the penultimate evening of our adventure.

starry starry night over the glacier; a long exposure of the lights to emphasise the stars

Northern lights photography is  a whole new skill set, requiring perfect climactic conditions and the ability to work in complete darkness. I am not even going to try and go there.

It might rain............... !

northern lights explorer

So I am back in my ordinary life, having enjoyed the extra-ordinary beauty of iceland once more.

My thanks to Daniel and David for their boundless energy, enthusiasm and entertainment.

Another unforgettable trip.

Daniel Bergmann Iceland Nature Photography

David Ward Into the Light

Waiting...............for the rain to stop.............photography in Iceland

on the road in Iceland.......at the filling station

Here I am in iceland again, hoping for some snow and ice.

It seems that I will need to be patient, as it hasn't stopped raining for more than a few minutes in the last 24 hours, and the snow and ice is high on the hills in the central highlands where we cannot go. It feels rather like being in Scotland on a bad day. The group I am with are mostly male, which means that I can't pass the time discussing the merits of the latest Prada handbag or this spring's Jimmy Choo's. Instead we have the merits of D800 versus 1D, large format versus digital, and last night the chemical structure of ergotamine complete with 3-D images of the molecule rotating beautifully in space on an iPad.

Having had 88mm of rain overnight, we set off Eastwards from our hotel in Ger∂i ( just got lucky with the ∂ by pressing alt-d). Icelandic is a challenging language, with many new sounds and rules, which I am failing to master.

Suffice it to say that it rained ALL day. Not light rain , but the serious stuff that causes rivers to swell and  fields to flood.

Meanwhile back in the UK I hear it is freezing and there is snow on the ground.


Such is life. Here is has not gone below 7-8 degrees centigrade since I arrived.

driving in the rain 

The only dry places were service stations and cafes, so the day was spent driving from one cafe to another, stopping at locations along the way to test the weather and confirm that it really was too wet to take pictures.

But we did find a great little book in the petrol station called 50 crazy things to do in iceland. One recommended activity was to 'challenge your driving skills', which we felt was appropriate for the weather, but perhaps a little too crazy for a minibus containing real people........

am wondering what the text suggests here..........

More appropriate would probably be the mud bathing option.

much more appealing than overturning the vehicle

Earlier in the day we had been discussing Gursky's photograph of the river, that earned him enormous sums of money.

I took a photograph of some items in the shop and was accused of copying Gursky's images of shop displays. Given that no photographic idea that I ever come up with is likely to be  a new idea, this doesn't worry me too much. I can simply say that  I am aware of my influences.

I was attracted to the 'cockpit cleaner'.

It seems that drivers in Iceland hanker after being aeroplane pilots.

cockpit cleaner

We continued eastwards to Stokksnes, to the wonderful black sandy beach with dunes.

It was raining there too.

Stokksnes © Caroline Fraser

This picture is a colour image. It was a very moody grey day.  I enjoyed the wind and the rain, and just being there again. I snapped a few shots with my tiniest camera, with my hand over the lens to keep the rain drops off.

Then back to Jokulsarlon to the glacial lagoon, which frankly looks a bit of a mess right now , with lots of flat melting fragments of ice. The fragments are all washing up onto the beach in their hundreds, so when the rain stops we will be down there for some joyful ice photography.

But for now the only option was another cup of tea.

Cafe, Jokulsarlon © Caroline Fraser

you can take a horse to water................

but you can't make it drink.........................


I am physically unable to take a photo of a waterfall and gain pleasure from the experience. I can only think of calendars, and supersaturated images with long exposures that leave me cold.

Iceland has many very spectacular waterfalls, but I will never be able to do them justice. Instead you will find me turning my back, looking at the ground, and seeing what I can find.

At the site above ( see if you can spot the photographer up at the top) there was a little mass hysteria from some of the fairer sex on our Icelandic adventure, who had reached their saturation point where waterfalls were concerned. We wandered around, and admired the concrete bridge that made this particular waterfall a little less attractive than some others ; the intended perfect photo being in the other direction with a mountain in the background..........


I really don't like being told how other people do it, just as I don't like reading about places before I get there, in order not to have preconceived ideas about what a place will be like. I had a mini rebellion, taking out my smallest camera , a tiny Lumix, and making some double exposures of the colourful plants beneath my feet. I didn't compose, just snapped away, more concerned with the colour than the forms.

The rebellious girls  mused on the idea of a girls only photo tour that allowed stops whenever someone requested one, be it for a flower, mountain, sheep, cat, dog, house or just to go shopping. It seems that someone has already taken up this idea , offering a tour  for women only with tuition and hiking, but no shopping. But what fun we had with a balance of sexes. I am not sure I could manage without some male entertainment; we had yoga demonstrations, ice-cream eating and endless logging into phones, laptops and iPads to amuse us. It transpires that some groups of male photographers don't feel the need to talk to each other at meals, preferring to interact with their apple devices at the table.

There was so much that we saw that we would like to return to capture. The waterfalls were impressive but not what I came for. Men with massive back-packs dutifully composed the "standard" shot which I didn't attempt,  and went home happy...............

Iceland is a photographer's dream. Whether you like the bigger or the smaller picture you cannot fail to be overwhelmed by the beauty of the landscape.  The mosses and lichens are worthy of a tour in themselves. Dawn at the glacial lagoon is to die for, with low light on the fragments of glacial ice.

We vowed to come back. I would have returned already if I had any annual leave left from my day job.

I have started having nightmares in which I am on my way back, but the plane is overbooked, and I am offered a flight to Vienna or Paris instead.

 It seems that I have been hooked by this beautiful landscape, and I know that I will be back next year.


 I am well and truly smitten.

We had a great time, thanks to Daniel Bergmann, author of Iceland Landscapes our expert local guide and lover of nature.

The colours are extraordinary,  and I hardly know where to begin in creating something meaningful from the 1000 images that sit on my laptop waiting for the editing process to begin.

I will have to make do with listening to the music of Sigur Ros which transports me back there, and working on my images during the long winter evenings that lie ahead. In writing this I find that I can see the results of their Valtari mystery film experiment at the NFT next week; something to really look forward to as I have fallen in love with their music.

Sleepless in Iceland..........a photographic adventure

glacial fragment on the beach © caroline fraser 2012

I am finally on my long awaited photographic tour in Iceland led by Daniel Bergmann,  ( Daniel Bergmann ) a nature photographer. Four days in and I am not disappointed; far from it. The country is even more beautiful than I realised from my short stay 10 years ago, and the group of 10 participants are running out of superlatives to express our awe and wonder at what we are experiencing. Being a mixed bunch from Canada, the US, Australia and England, we are using phrases such as 'awesome' with new meaning, and in a variety of accents.

We are a mixed bunch with a wide age range. The amount of kit being lugged around is huge in some cases, and I am wishing I had not left my canon 100-400 zoom lens behind for reasons of weight. Trying to balance what one can practically carry, with what one would like to have in one's bag is a challenge. The men have bags that weigh at least 4 times the weight of mine, containing more cameras and accessories than I would know what to do with. Lugging up a steep hill yesterday to a waterfall I pondered the likelihood of collapsing under the strain. If I died, I would die happy! A fellow companion wisely took out several lenses from her bag before she set off up the hill. The only problem was that she forgot to put her camera back in the bag after re-organising the contents, and so had to make do with taking photos on her iPhone.

We have been regaled with tales of cameras disappearing beneath the waves on the beach, being dropped into the sea and down mountains..........  and of rolls of film being eaten by baboons in Africa. So much can go wrong when least expected.

glacial fragments on the beach at sunrise, with power lines just because I like them.......

The biggest challenge on the trip is a lack of sleep. We are hoping to see the northern lights. Daniel got up hourly through the night two nights ago to check for their presence. I went to bed, half hoping not to get a knock on the door to announce that I should be up and out in 5 minutes as instructed before going off to bed. So far we have not been lucky. We have been up at 04.30 or 05.30 every morning, and the group is catching up on sleep at odd times such as after breakfast and in the bus. The light on the beach above is golden at sunrise, quickly changing to blue after the initial glow or if the sun goes behind a cloud.

golden light at sunrise

blue light a few minutes later

I enjoy both effects, but was interested to see most of my fellow photographers pack up their gear the moment the 'sunrise' was over; it seems that they are more concerned to catch the bigger picture than I am. I could happily spend hours pondering over pieces of ice against the black sand, something I have not seen anywhere else on my travels. Daniel informs me that the 'cool' thing to do is to capture the blocks of ice with long exposures in the water. What he didn't say is that most of the ice fragments move around in the waves, so that by the time I had set up a shot with the 'big stopper' the block would have moved, and the stopper has to be removed to re-focus.

moving target; ice fragment in the waves © caroline fraser 2012

As you can see in the image above, the ice top left has moved during the exposure; even the largest blocks of ice roll and break as you try to capture their beauty.

They have been carried down river onto the beach from the place I was most excited to visit; Jokulsarlon, at the foot of the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier on the South-east coast.

view of the glacier from Jokulsarlon

The lagoon in this image is 6km long, far larger than it appears to the  eye. The scale of the country is something I was not prepared for. It has to be seen to appreciated. I am already planning when to return, and I still have another 5 days to go.